


The Times Inbetween

by itisunreal



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Philinda Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisunreal/pseuds/itisunreal
Summary: For rinna-girl5 over on tumblr for philinda secret santa.prompt: a quiet moment





	

“You aren't going back out there, Phil. You won't make it ten feet be-”

He interrupted, knowing where this was headed. If he could just cut her off before she started, maybe... “Not fair. It's not that ba-”

“But true, and it is. You'll be safer here.”

“It's not like you're in the best shape either, Mel,” he said, nodding at her dangling arm.

Brushing off the comment, May pulled the nonfunctional limb tighter to her side. “They'll find us in here sooner or later, but the team will be here soon. Just stay put, and stay hidden. Nothing to worry about.”

He shook his head. “No, you're not going out there alone. We wait. This isn't up for debate, Melinda. We stay together.”

“It's not. You have to make it out of here, so I'm going, and you're staying.”

“No. No, out together or not at all.”

“So dramatic.” She smiled despite the lack of humor in all of this. How it turned into this shit show, she'll never quite understand, it had seemed to be going fine, but if the last thing she did was get him out than she'd done her job, and done it well. She could be happy with it. “You're the only thing holding Shield together right now. They need you more than they need me.”

His heart fell. He couldn't stop her, he knew he couldn't, and it was futile to try, but he couldn't just give in, let her walk away from him, and everything – everyone – in her life. Not for him at least. He didn't plan on losing her like this – or at all, and if begging and pleading was all he had left in his bag of tricks, he'd use them to the best of his abilities. “Just give them a few minutes, they'll make it.”

She leaned across him, placing the remaining gun in his mechanical hand. Whatever happened to the other one, it wasn't working now. “No.” Releasing the clip from her broken one, she ejected the chambered round, and placed it back in the magazine. She set it beside him.

“Don't do this. Please.” She was going out there practically defenseless because of him, and she could handle her own, he knew she could, but still... They should've never came here, it was a stupid plan, but he hadn't thought it would come to this. These people were a nuisance, an annoyance, unorganized and petty. Just something to be removed from his never ending to-do list before they became an actual problem. He hadn't thought it was an act, a ploy, a trap. Why would he? They didn't even have a name for god's sake. How could they be so put together, coordinated, but so obscure at the same time? He hadn't thought it'd come to this.

He never thought.

She'd pull away at any moment, walk out the door just to save him despite his wishes, and he had to say something – anything that would fill this void opening around them. But no word seemed big enough, no phrase strong enough, able to convey what he meant, what he felt. He could wax poetics a thousand years and still never string a sentence together that worked.

He grabbed her upper arms instead, wincing a little at the grimace she made. Just had to keep her there long enough. What good were words anyway? They'd flee with his breath, fade away with time. Pulling her closer, he rested his forehead against hers. Shutting his eyes, he took a moment to just breath out a little of the worry.

He trusted her, her ability, mostly he trusted her choices. She did nothing rashly, and would be as safe as she could be, but this had the potential to be disastrous, and he wanted to stop her, talk her out of it. He couldn't though, even at full strength, it'd take an army. She'd made up her mind, and there was no going back. He shouldn't have rushed in, should've waited for more solid facts. He should've... he should've done a lot of things.

What good were words that flee, and fade, and catch in his gut too scared to crawl up his throat?

In the weightlessness of this second, where he floated in the surrealness of it all, they felt useless, like they'd abandoned him. Words were all he'd ever had, sure he could throw a punch but that wasn't what had saved his ass more times than he could count, but his mind was blank, throat constricted, tongue weighted and dry. An acidic lump waited to claw its way out of the growing pit in his stomach.

If all he could get was a single stilled moment, if that was all he could have, he'd take it, savor it.

He felt her finally relax, and it's bittersweet reprieve. She wasn't leaving. Not yet at least. There was time.

She's warm in his hands, and he exhaled, scrunching his nose as her hair brushed against him.

There was nothing to memorize. It was a task he'd spread out over the years, and was thankful for now. There'd be too much to take in, retain. The level of detail he'd want to preserve would vanish in a night not dug in deep enough, and time was running short as it was.

She was antsy, itching to get it over with, and once more that vague feeling to find his words, use them tugged at him. He'd made it sound so final, like once she was out of sight, she was gone, beyond his or anyone's reach, never to return. And it wasn't true. This didn't have to end badly, it wouldn't. He just wanted to reiterate.

She'd make it. Save them both. But, god, what if she didn't?

He's interrupted though, thoughts cast from his mind. Her hand found his cheek, and his eyes were slow to open. But when they did, she's staring, and he's afraid. Couldn't stop himself from thinking this would be the end, their luck had never been very good, and he could only imagine what terrors she saw in his expression. And just in case it turned sour, he needed to make sure she understood. Knew. Felt.

“Mel-”

He's halfway through her name before she's up, slipping out the door. He'd never favored the dark.

***

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting when he decided to take action, but his butt has gone numb, and his leg ached up to his hip, so it's been long enough. Playing the damsel was getting him nowhere, and making him a help to no one, especially his partner wandering alone into dangerous territory.

Pushing himself up was more of a strain than he'd thought it'd be, but when he's up, he's out of breath and a little dizzy. It counted for something though, he guessed.

Steady on one leg, Coulson leaned over for the gun, stuffing the extra clip in his pocket. He didn't know which way she would've gone or how to get out, but he figured that was problem for after finding her.

Laying the foot of his injured leg flat on the floor, he leaned onto it for only a moment, hoping it was usable, but a sharp pain radiated through his leg, black splotches spotting his sight. That option was off the table.

The room was dim, walls solid, rough under his hands. She checked it earlier, it's a rat trap, he's cornered. He'd be searching virtually blind, but he'd needed something to help him walk if he planned on leaving the area. Clicking the safety into place, he tucked the gun into his waistband, and hopped along the wall, wanting to believe with everything he had that the exercise wouldn't last long. It was jarring, setting his teeth on edge.

From what he could see, there wasn't much in the way of helpful, but hopping wouldn't cut it. Some improvisation might be in order.

He hadn't made it far when a commotion broke out in the hall and stopped him dead. There would only be a moment or two to weigh his options. He could hide, maybe, might work. There was a small alcove a few feet in front of him. At least he thought there was, the shadows seemed to deepen. So it was dark enough for to work. He could shoot, but that would only draw more attention his way, ammo was limited, and the scolding he'd get later on wasn't worth the hassle it'd take to actually get to it. He could play dead, but after what he'd seen, already knew they wouldn't fall for it. Shoot him on the spot just to be sure. That was a once in a career move, and it almost hadn't worked the first and only time.

Hiding it was.

Backing himself into the tiny nook, he readied his weapon just in case, and leaned into the wall, letting it support his weight, leg burning from strain. All that was left was to wait.

The door opened with a flood of light, a shadowing peering in.

_“Psst.”_

His brows furrowed. Who entered a room like that? Dead giveaway. Maybe his luck wasn't so bad after all.

“I know you're in here, Coulson.”

He sagged hearing Daisy, reminding himself to later, after thanking her, go over how to appropriately extract someone of a hostage situation, and proper entrance and clearing techniques.

He threw his hand out to give a location, not that it would be hard to for them to find him without the gesture. “Here.”

“You could have just started with that.”

“Where is the fun in that? No drama at all.”

“There was no drama this time either.”

He heard only one set of footsteps as they bickered. Mack was on watch than.

“Who else is here? Have you found May? She went out-” She held up a hand to stop the interrogation. “Hello to you too. Hunter and Bobbie are on their way to May's location. We'll have you both out and safely back home in no time.” He hopped forward, cringing at the pressure applied on his leg. Turning toward the door, Mack let off a blast. “But we should get going before they send in the reinforcements.”

Coulson gave a firm nod.

“How'd that happen?” Daisy asked, gesturing to his leg. Pulling his arm over her shoulders, she started them off.

“Would you believe I fell down some stairs?”

Mack lead them out, keeping vigilant as they slowly behind him.

Dipping around a corner, she snorted. “No.”

Coulson huffed, hiking his shoulders as a shot rang out from behind. Daisy pushed him against the wall, then leaned out, throwing a mini-quake out, tossing the group gathering behind them.

“Well, I did.” He paused, a grimace forming. “We did.”

“No. Oh, DC, you took her down with you? Bold strategy, not one I believe she'd appreciate, but bold.”

Two rights and a left later, she set him down behind a crate, and looked to Mack. His leg was obviously worse than he thought it was. He panted over their plan-making.

“Take out the two guarding the quinjet, I'll get the rest.”

They snuck away, each going a different direction, and it wasn't long before the ground was rumbling under him. Hurried steps headed back toward him, and Daisy ducked under his arm hauling him up before he was quite ready for that. Colors danced in his vision, but he was ready to go, to see May, be home.

“You know you're not supposed to drag your friends down with you right, DC? Did nobody teach you manners as a child?”

Giving a half-hearted shrug, he could feel the sweat running down his face. It itched, and irked him, and he wanted to wipe at it, clear it away, but his limbs were heavy, and he could feel the pulse is his leg prominently. “More like she tackled me down a flight of stairs, then pulled us into a broom closet, but okay, yeah, blame me.”

She grinned, releasing her hold as he flopped down into a seat. “Can't leave you two alone for five minutes.”

He eyed the small plane anxiously. “Where are they?”

“ETA?”

Silence stretched as they both listened in, faces betraying nothing. He'd never wished more in his life to be on the comms, knowing what was happening in real time.

“They'll be here soon, had take the long way.”

“Don't worry, Sir. I'm sure they're fine.” Simmons smiled.

“Jesus Christ!” Coulson jerked, head whipping toward the cockpit. He shouldn't be so jumpy, it ridiculous, but if asked he'd blame it on his fried nerves.

"Why didn't you guys deal with the people coming to take the plane?"

"What, and possibly have them send back-up without back-up ourselves? No thank you. That is one mess I'd rather not sort out."

He ignored their chattering, waving off Simmons attempt to look at his leg. He didn't have to wait long, taping his good foot the whole time. Standing as they finally, thankfully, reach the outside, he kept his eyes tilted. It would be easier to keep calm that way, until he could see the full picture. But his eyes drift, he'd like to keep them down until her feet are in front of him, and it was safe, but they had another idea as he found her.

His stomach jumped up his throat as she lagged up the ramp. There's blood, and he wanted to rush forward, he had always helped patch her up, but he merely shifted his stance. Simmons was on it anyway, he just replaced her hand as May came to stop in front of him.

He kept the pressure on her neck, thumb skimming the length of her jaw. "What happened?"

"Just a graze. It's fine."

He shook his head. Always trying to pretend what she did wasn't a sacrifice. That the things that happened to her didn't matter. He tugged her into his arms, and held her tight. "I need you. Never again. Together or not at all."

“We’ll see.”

Daisy watched longingly wanting to join in, wanting the world to stop threatening to pull her small family apart, and for their lives to go back to the mostly normal they'd been. Shrugging it off, she moved in. What was the harm? The worst they'd do was untangle her, and go back to their moment or end it completely because they realized everyone was watching.

Despite the pulse of hesitation, she kept going forward, and wrapped her arms around them. And she could be - would be satisfied with that, with knowing they were safe, and that she could feel them, but the warmth expanding in her chest was more than welcome as they added her in their embrace.

It was a rare occurrence in other families she'd had, they hadn't done this, didn't feel the need. And for a second she felt special, extremely gifted in a different way, but she knew it'd be fleeting. This kind of thing always was, even with the family she found. But the longer it managed to go on, the more people joined in.

Mack's arms reached around all three of them, and Jemma's popped up between May and Coulson's shoulders. It was almost comical how she shut her eyes, and leaned into them. Fitz piled in next, adding himself between Simmons and Coulson.

She understood if this was all of them, Hunter didn't seem the hugging type, and Bobbie was busy taking them home, but there was a reluctant groan from behind. And Daisy smiled all the wider as Hunter unenthusiastically threw his arms around them.

“I am here only as a representative of Bobbie. None of this team bonding nonsense for me.”

The moment was short, but meaningful until Coulson broke them up claiming his leg was tingling in unpleasant ways, and Simmons refused the shooing he tried. She began fussing as the rest of them milled about their business.

He kept his hand around May's wrist, guiding her into the seat next to him as Simmons switched patients, taping May's bandage down.

“I believe I owe you a drink. I have the bottle, if you're up for it.”

She hiccupped a tired laugh. “You brought it with you?”

“Yeah, thought this would be in and out. Would've had plenty of time for drinks after.”

She hummed, and rested her head against his shoulder, but didn't respond other than that.

“If you guys are talking about sharing old expensive liquor, it's only fair if you share with the rest of the class. I mean, we did save your asses back there,” Daisy piped up, leaning out from the co-pilot seat, a grin in place.

With no response, she turned back, and reached for the phone in her pocket. Her smile widening as Bobbie eyed her, a small frown on her face. The shutter sound was horrendously loud in the quiet cabin, but Daisy quickly flipped the phone to face Bobbie when no one reacted.

Over the awing, and others gathering to look at her new prized picture, she heard Coulson say, "I want a copy."


End file.
